


processing

by catbeans



Series: autistic luke Stuff [2]
Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: M/M, autistic luke skywalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 14:26:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12866424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catbeans/pseuds/catbeans
Summary: Nothing was actually different, he realized; there was nothing new, nothing he hadn't been able to feel before, even if he hadn't been feeling it quite so strongly.The only thing that had changed was that he had stopped subconsciously trying to block it out.





	processing

**Author's Note:**

> i was thinking about how a lot of autistic people i know noticed themselves seeming "more" autistic after getting a dx, because they stopped trying to hide or ignore things that turned out to be bc theyre autistic, and Then i was thinking about that and the force which i might do some more on bc i think its cool

Luke didn't realize just how much he was trying to block out--however unsuccessfully--until he discovered that most people didn't have to try.

Base was never quiet, wherever they were. It had been a shock to his system until Leia had given him a pair of noise-canceling earbuds, reminding him over and over again until it finally sunk in that it was okay to need them, and it was okay to step out if they weren't helping enough; just because other people didn't feel pain from certain sounds didn't mean that it wasn't as real for him as getting hit over the head, she kept telling him.

There were more little things, the more he realized that this was something real, just how his brain worked; he let himself acknowledge the comforting heaviness of Han lying on top of him, the way dust motes spun and drifted in the light from an open window, the thrumming of a freshly tuned-up ship’s engine floating in the air around him like music.

There was so much to block out--lights too bright and sounds that scraped in his skull and the nauseating feeling of food with textures that didn't bother anyone else--but there was so much he had missed by trying to do so.

It wasn't until he was meditating, a short trek from base to get to somewhere close to silent except for the bugs and the birds and the leaves rattling together in the wind, that he realized just how much he had been missing.

It was hard to tell sometimes what was from his brain and what was from the Force; sometimes it felt like the two were inseparable, entwined in a way that made it impossible for anything to be just one or the other, but with no frame of reference and no other Force-sensitives to ask aside from Leia, he decided it wasn't worth questioning.

It didn't seem to make a difference.

He found a dry rock to sit on, crossing his legs and straightening his spine, and he closed his eyes.

Meditating always brought him a clarity, clearing the grit from his head that had collected over a day’s worth of background noise and voices and metal against metal from pilots doing repairs.

He knew he could feel lives like pinpricks of stars in a dark sky, only realizing what it was when Owen and Beru’s lights had gone dark, thousands more when he blew up the first Death Star; he felt it more when he focused on it, reaching out through the Force, but once he realized what it was he was feeling, the lights were there even when he wasn't looking for them.

He let himself disappear, like his body had faded away and what was left of him drifted with the wind, feeling it move through the leaves on the ground without having to look at them.

His breathing slowed as he melted into it, feeling the small animals rustling through the grass and chittering at each other in the trees, the throbbing lights of the roots reaching deep underground and all the other animals tunneling around them, the fainter glow of the veins in the leaves pulsing with sunlight and chlorophyll.

He could feel his heart rate slowing with his breath, feeling the lights so clearly it was like he could see them; he had heard of creatures who could do similar, in caves or on planets with almost no sun, who saw with sound and vibrations when their eyes evolved away.

He could never tell how long he had been there until he checked afterwards; there was so much to feel, so much happening that he would lose track of time and never fail to be surprised when he had only been out for an hour or two.

He couldn't tell when it started to feel  _ different, _ either, but as he sat there, the lights of the plants and the creatures in the trees and on the ground and in the air became gradually brighter, so clear he could feel more than he could have seen if he had opened his eyes. He could feel the wings beating of each individual bird in a flock flying over his head, the mites and the worms digging into the rotted bark of a log to his left, the irritating itch of something small and fuzzy biting into a tree nut, its tiny feet shifting impossibly quickly over its food stolen from another animal a little ways off.

There was so much  _ life _ it was almost overwhelming, nowhere around him that wasn't glowing with something crawling or flying or pulsing from the ground; it was easy to forget that he had a body at all, just one glow among billions, surrounded by so much light that his own was almost invisible--

His eyes snapped open when his knees hit the ground, holding his hands out just in time to catch himself from tumbling face-first into the dirt.

He didn't realize he had forgotten to breathe until his chest ached on a gasp, his head spinning before he pushed himself back upright to get back on the rock.

It took a few seconds for his head to clear from the lack of air, but when it did, the lights weren't any less bright; he could still feel just as much, sensing behind him even more clearly than when he looked forward, all the lights superimposed under what he was seeing.

Nothing was actually different, he realized; there was nothing new, nothing he hadn't been able to feel before, even if he hadn't been feeling it quite so strongly.

The only thing that had changed was that he had stopped subconsciously trying to block it out.

 

When he got back to base, he realized that he couldn't start again even when he tried.

The first few seconds had been a wonder; he couldn't help feeling giddy at all the bright lights of the pilots and other rebels, the faint colors of their voices tinting their glow in more shades than Luke knew how to name, the different textures and tones almost like music.

It turned into a cacophony as soon as he got inside, with nowhere for all the sounds to go except back and forth between the walls, too much of a blur to pick out any specific voice among all the others.

His hands felt shaky and almost numb when he dug the earbuds out of his pocket, and with all the voices and sounds dulled, there was finally one he could identify through all the rest.

He turned around just in time to see Han coming towards him, his shoulders sagging in relief when they made eye contact.

Han glanced to Luke's ears before he said anything. “You doing okay?”

Luke nodded and tried to brush his hair in front of the earbuds. “Just loud in here.”

“You were out there forever, I was about to start looking for you,” Han said, nodding towards the door on the far end of the room to get Luke to follow him. “We got that meeting.”

There were only a few people aside from him and Han, but as soon as he switched off the earbuds, he switched them back on again.

The fluorescent lights made an awful buzz, a pilot absently tapping a stylus against the table and the whirring of the holovid projector, already too much for him to focus on what anyone was saying without the noise cancellation.

He had to remind himself a couple times to focus on what it was they were saying instead of the shapes of their voices.

Han’s was so warm that Luke wished he could live in it.

 

After the meeting, even after the recon mission it had been about, Luke still couldn't get it all to  _ stop. _

He wasn't sure if he really wanted it to; it was draining and  _ loud, _ so much to process that he couldn't decide to process what mattered, ready to pop his own head off and chuck it into the silence of space more than a few times during the few days they were away from base.

Still, there were moments Luke wouldn't have wanted it any other way, when a nearing sun hit the Falcon’s dashboard just right, or the air smelled fresh and green, or when he climbed up onto the roof of the Falcon with Han on a lunch break and he could feel all the lights of all the locals going about their days, warm and bright in every direction.

He thought about his brain and the Force, and the way they sometimes seemed to be one and the same, and he decided all he could do was accept and work around it.

He found himself meditating more often, clearing the grit in his head that accumulated faster without whatever filters he had been able to put up, and even more often than that, more often than usual, he found himself asking Han to lie on top of him.

Meditating cleared the grit from his head like a broom on dust, a bit at a time, but Han squished it out of him the second he was tightly sandwiched between Han and the bed.

Luke hadn't left the Falcon for much more than something to eat since the end of the mission, quiet and still compared to the rest of the base with only him and Han and occasionally Chewie; even then, and for days afterward, he was almost never without the earbuds, his skin crawling and his head pounding by the time he had a chance to get somewhere quieter.

It was just the two of them when they got back to the Falcon that night, and Luke didn't need to say anything when he lay down before Han kicked off his shoes and settled on top of him.

Luke hummed contentedly and wound his arms tight around Han's waist, letting out a deep sigh at the feeling of all the sounds lingering in his head finally melting away.

“Thank you,” Luke mumbled into Han's hair, kissing the top of his head when Han nuzzled into the curve of his neck.

“Like I'm complaining,” Han said, and Luke could feel him smiling when he pressed a kiss to Luke's jaw. He was quiet for a minute, and then, “I got something to show you, actually.”

Luke grunted and held onto him a little tighter.

“Later,” Han added.

_ Later _ turned out to be a few hours, when Luke couldn't help falling asleep with the warm, comforting weight of Han on top of him and Han couldn't bring himself to move.

When Luke woke up, he wished he didn't have to, but his arm had fallen asleep what had to be ages ago, completely numb until Han shifted and his hand tingled uncomfortably with the blood rushing back to his fingers.

“What was it you had to show me?”

Han kissed his cheek before stiffly standing up, careful not to knock into Luke, holding a hand out to help him up. “It's in the cockpit.”

Luke gave Han’s hand a quick squeeze when he didn't let go once Luke was standing, following him down the hall, and Han only dropped his hand to reach around to something in the copilot’s seat.

“I, uh…” He shrugged, holding out a thick blanket that Luke hadn't seen on board before. “I commissioned it from Chewie.”

“What is--?” Luke started, but he stopped when Han gave it to him, his hands dipping from the surprising weight of it; it felt like there were beads under the tight knit. “This is  _ heavy.” _

“That's kinda the point.”

Luke couldn't help smiling to himself at the faint flush on Han's cheeks before he realized what Han meant.

“If I'm not around, or something,” he said, gesturing towards the blanket with another shrug. “So you don't have to sweat yourself to death putting on, like, five coats again.”

Luke’s smile turned into a grin. “When did you do this?”

“Chewie finished it yesterday,” Han said. “You seemed pretty swamped lately.”

Luke bunched up the blanket to hold in one arm, tugging Han closer by the front of his shirt to kiss him. “Thank you.”

He could feel Han smiling before he pulled away to lead Han back to his bunk, wrapping the blanket around himself, and he let out a deep, relieved sigh before reaching for Han's hand.

“This is really nice.”

Han grinned and gave his hand a soft squeeze. 

Luke flopped down onto the bed once they made it back to Han's bunk, pulling the blanket up to his chin with a satisfied hum.

It was long enough to even cover his feet, and if he had already had a hard time getting out of bed with Han there, this wasn't going to make it any easier.

“Get over here,” he said, holding the corner up so Han could settle in next to him, pulling him close to his chest and kissing the top of Han's head before Han leaned up to kiss him properly. “This is perfect.”

He could feel Han smiling again before he pulled back, pressing a quick kiss to Luke's cheek before settling again on his shoulder, his hair tickling under Luke's chin.

“I love you,” he mumbled, kissing the top of Han's head again and pulling the blanket a little higher.

Han shuffled closer, his arm tight around Luke's waist. “Love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> @hansolosbi dot tumblr!


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